Eve - Iris Johansen [17]
If Sandra was on crack, that could mean anything. Two minutes or two hours.
“What’s your room number?”
“It’s 2012.”
“I’ll come after you. Go to the bathroom and wash your face and try to stop the bleeding.”
“I will. You’ll hurry?”
“I’ll hurry.” She hung up the receiver, and leaned her head against the phone for a moment. She tried to think. Dammit, Sandra, why wouldn’t you just call the desk? But Sandra wasn’t going to do it, so that meant the ball was in Eve’s court.
So get it done.
She whirled and strode toward the front entrance. “I have to go, Mr. Kimble. Emergency…”
A moment later she was running across the street toward John’s car. Teresa was leaning with her elbows on the open window of the passenger door talking to John. She glanced at Eve in surprise as Eve nudged her aside.
“Get out of my way. I’m in a hurry.” Eve jumped in the passenger seat and turned to John. “Take me to the Marriott Hotel.”
“A hotel? That’s too good to be true.” He was studying her expression. “Yes, I’m right, it is too good.” He started the car. “Bye, Teresa, nice talking to you.”
“Yeah.” Teresa was still in the street watching as the Chevy pulled away from the curb.
“Why the Marriott?” John asked as he stopped at the red light on the corner.
“Sandra … my mother is in trouble. Someone beat her up and locked her in the hotel room. I have to get there as quickly as possible.”
“And I had a car.”
“The Marriott is ten or twelve blocks away. Just drop me off, and I’ll take it from there.”
“I know where it is. That fancy downtown Marriott.” He glanced at her. “How badly is she hurt?”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t too coherent. She said she’s bleeding.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that she’s too bad. She wasn’t scared enough to call downstairs to the front desk.” Her lips tightened. “She’d rather have me rescue her again.”
“How many times has it happened?”
“Two or three times. Not like this. Once was at the apartment, a couple times in bars. She’s not a good judge of men. Anyone who has the stuff and is willing to sweet-talk her is enough.”
“You’re angry with her.”
“Yes, this is so stupid. I’m angry and I’m worried and I want her to stop. She’s only a little over thirty. At this rate, she won’t live to forty. She’s selfish and vain and doesn’t care for anyone but herself.” She crossed her arms across her chest, her hands tightly gripping her upper arms to keep from shaking. “I try to hate her, but I can’t do it.” She repeated through set teeth, “I can’t do it.”
“Easy.” John’s hand was on her thigh. “We’ll get her out of this.”
“This time,” Eve said. “What about next time?”
“You can’t keep doing it. You’re not the mother, she is.”
“That doesn’t seem to make any difference,” she said shakily. “And it won’t, until I find a way to hate her. I’m not sure I ever will.”
“Then we’ll just worry about this time.” He pulled up the ramp of the Marriott and parked at the far end. “Leave everything to me. Stay behind me. You look too upset. We don’t want security thinking I’m dragging in an underage girl for sex.”
She got out of the car. “I can handle this myself, John.”
“Stay behind me.” He got out of the car and moved toward the doorman. “We’re just going to run inside and pick up my girlfriend’s mother. Would you keep an eye on my car?”
The doorman frowned as he looked at the shabby vehicle. “You can’t leave that thing parked out here for long.”
“Ten minutes.” John smiled. “I don’t want to make her mother walk far. She had an accident last week.” He was pushing Eve through the revolving doors. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”
He moved Eve quickly through the glittering lobby to the elevators. “Casual,” he said in a low tone. “Smile.”
She smiled with an effort as she got into the elevator. “It’s 2012.”
He pressed the button. “Right.”
“I thought I’d try to find a housekeeping maid to let me into the room.”
“That’s one way.” The elevator stopped, and he nudged her out of the elevator. “It might take time to find one that we can con into unlocking the door. But, you know, I don’t understand how he could lock her in.